


Spiral Architect

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Angels are Dicks, Blood, Blood and Gore, Bloodletting, Bunker Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Demons, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Evil needs a foothold, Freedom, Gen, Heaven, Hell Gates, Hellgates, Horsemen, Hunter's Funeral, Kings of Hell, M/M, Mild Language, Monster mash, Phoenixes, Season/Series 09-10, Slash, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The demon Paimon consolidates his power, forcing the Winchesters and Castiel to quickly free those locked away with Kuravi. But who – or what – else is there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Metaphoric Motor-Replay

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : All episodes through 08x20 Pac-Man Fever.

**Levelland, Texas**. Simon Yates pulled his car around front of the hospital, which was apparently the only place the staff allowed patients to exit. Still annoyed at the inconvenience, he reminded himself today was about Ryan.

Simon couldn't believe his eyes. His brother stepped outside; there was no wheelchair, no crutch, nothing but his own two feet to support him. 

"Ryan!" Simon called. "You're okay?"

His brother's face turned to look at him, but there was something wrong. His expression was stark, harsh, angry even. And his eyes were all wrong, too. They were liquid-black with a stream of red glow along the lids. 

"Ryan?" Simon yelled as he got out of the driver's seat.

When he reached the curb, Ryan was gone. Simon looked up and down the street, then back into the hospital in case he'd imagine the whole thing. 

"Nurse!" he squawked at the first person he saw. "I need help! My brother – "

 

 **Hyder, Arizona**. Paimon hadn't walked the earth since the time of the Egyptian plagues, but as far as he could tell, very little had changed. With all their new ability and technology, humans failed to communicate and trust one another. His newly acquired body of one Ryan Yates proved this nicely. 

Ryan only believed in the idea of demons, as if they were spiritual entities that solely tempted or influenced. His disbelief was the best vulnerability Paimon knew, for why protect yourself from something that did not exist? 

Paimon returned to the Intelligence Base Camp, a name he tolerated solely for utility. 

"You've returned, master," said one of the minions. "Shall I call Eric and Blaze?"

Paimon asked, "Which are you?"

"Caleb," said the witch.

"Yes, Caleb, call them now."

Caleb rang the bell and in a moment Eric and Blaze appeared.

"Yes, master?" Blaze said. 

"While my mission proved fruitless," Paimon said, "I discovered something that I need you to explain. I can feel that the seals have been broken, that horsemen have been unleashed, yet my master does not walk the earth."

Eric spoke first, "The Apocalypse began four years ago."

Blaze said, "But the fight did not ensue."

"How?"

Blaze conjured a cloud of smoke and showed Paimon the battlefield, ready with two occupied vessels. "The very day of the fight, Lucifer and Michael met, but were interrupted."

The cloud showed Dean's arrival. Then it showed Michael and Lucifer falling into the cage.

"How is this possible?" Paimon demanded. 

"We do not know," said Caleb, "but we do know the two brothers obtained the horsemen's rings for the cage door."

"The brothers," Paimon repeated. "They were with the Eight Immortals. Who are they?"

"The Winchesters," Eric said. "They are hunters."

"Hunters? Hunters trapped Michael in the cage with Lucifer?" Paimon seethed. "And they live?"

"Yes, master," Blaze spoke. 

"You need to send out diviners, witches, wards, whatever you have," Paimon ordered. "Those demon in my ranks, in my order, all were powerful. They would not leave this plane without protecting what they prepared. Discover what happened to them and their charges."

Caleb asked, "What are their names?"

Paimon should have killed the idiot boy for his insolence, but he remembered that these humans did not know much. Instead, he listed the names of the first-fallen, the demons hand-selected by his master.

 

Sam tapped idly on the frame of his headphones as he scanned through another chapter on the demon Paimon. Not only was Paimon a well-known King of Hell, he commanded legions of demons and attracted the most powerful witches, for his trade wasn't in souls but in power. 

The Archangel Michael locked Paimon away just before the Exodus from Egypt because he granted the Pharaoh's sorcerers incredible powers. Michael took the opportunity to trick Paimon into a trap, where he stayed until about a month ago.

Frustrated, Sam pulled off his headphones. He froze, remembering why he had them on to begin with, and immediately replace them. 

Sam was happy – thrilled, even – that Cas and Dean had finally made up. He was happy that his brother stopped being an idiot and went back to being happy. Perhaps he'd been naive to think that a week was long enough for them to stop making so much damn noise. Make up sex was one thing, but Dean and Castiel were having a makeup-sex-triathlon. He shook the thought out of his head before it had time to erupt into mental images. 

Sam needed a break from everything, so he grabbed his keys and padded out the door for his pickup. At the very least, he could go on a grocery run.

He saw he had another missed call from Kevin. Ever since he left Sam a cryptic message the week before, he called twice a day to check in. He didn't leave another message, though, which gave Sam the impression that he wanted an update.

Making a mental note to talk to Cas later that night, he geared his truck up and headed out.


	2. Plasmic Oceans

Castiel looked down towards his own chest, where Dean's head lay, asleep. He had watched Dean sleep before, and there was nothing remarkable about it. Yet, now, the angel could not deny that the image was comforting. 

He didn't know how long he rested just like that before the sound of the bunker's door opening called his attention. He slowly moved Dean's head and body off his own and covered him with the comforter. Cas made short work of dressing himself before heading down to the war room. 

He heard Sam moving about the kitchen. A corkboard caught the angel's eye; it covered the names Kuravi said were trapped in the Catacombs below the Arctic Ocean. Each name had a thorough description. It was an impressive feat.

"Hey, Cas," Sam said as he returned to the war room. 

"Hello, Sam," Cas replied. "You've kept busy."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I can't really find much about killing Paimon."

"It is a difficult task," Cas said.

"So I've read, so I started looking at the people Kuravi mentioned, and I think we need to focus on that."

"Because of Ruach?" Cas asked.

"Well, we could use someone powerful enough to kill Paimon," Sam said. "And he's certainly got the juice."

"She," Cas corrected.

"She?" 

"Yes, she."

"All the literature uses 'he' for Ruach."

"Kuravi says Ruach uses female pronouns. She's been gone for so long, perhaps everyone forgot."

"Well, we need to get to her before Paimon does."

"That might not be a problem," Cas dismissed. "Supernatural power is diminished at the Catacombs."

"Diminished?"

"How else could someone contain angels and Kuravi and a deity for thousands upon thousands of years?"

Sam shrugged. "When you were poking around, did you see anything that can help us open the place up?"

"Like what?"

"A signature. A keyhole. A bumper sticker. Anything that might clue us into who might've done this."

"Valefor."

"Sorry?"

"The demon Valefor was the one who captured Kuravi," Cas said. "He was known for the temptation of stealing and his trickery."

"I read about him. You have any idea what kind of magic he'd use to lock people away?"

"Which books did you read of him in?" Cas asked. 

Sam pointed to the pile he'd already dug through. "Also, Kevin left me a message, said I should talk to you about a plan of action."

Cas stiffened. "Plan of action? He used those words?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Never mind," Cas said. "We'll deal with that next."

"We will?"

"This is more pressing," he said as he opened one of the books. "Figuring out how Valefor could use magic or power in a place where his own power was weak at best."

 

Paimon had little patience. He had been entrapped for thousands of years and was impatient for every second of that time. Waiting now was simply infuriating. 

Caleb returned and bowed. "Master, I have news for you."

"About who?"

"Chax," said the witch.

"Tell me."

"He has two dozen witches in his service to this day, attempting to revive him. He left behind several rocks that remove sight and hearing from their victims, which are currently entrusted to several of his witches."

"I see," Paimon said. "Who are they?"

"I do not know their names, but I will get the rocks from them if you command it."

"I do, go now."

No sooner had he left than Blaze arrived, and bowing, she said, "Master, I have news."

"What?" Paimon asked.

"Ipos left behind several tools of divination. He has over a hundred witches worldwide. Buer imbued several gems to help find Hell Gates before he was slain; about a dozen witches still serve him, even though his death occurred thousands of years ago," she said.

"Where are the stones?"

"The witches entrusted to guard them keep them hidden."

"Not for long," Paimon said. "What else?"

"Buer also kept one Hell Gate under demonic control, located in a remote island outside the Philippians."

"Is it still active?"

Blaze said, "Yes, but witches cannot go near it."

"Anything else?"

"Naberius left a small cavity of objects, which I have brought to you."

"Naberius?" asked Paimon. "He died before I was locked away."

"Indeed, the servants of Buer took over his charges," Blaze said, placing a chest at his feet.

Eric entered and bowed.

"You, Blaze," Paimon said, "go collect what Ipos and Buer left behind for me."

She left, and Eric stood before Paimon alone.

"What?"

"I have reports on Valefor and Sallos."

"And?"

"Valefor was killed by the Archangel Gabriel, who pillaged his stock and plundered his hiding places."

"And Gabriel?"

"Dead."

"Sallos?"

"He has five hundred witches and servants worldwide. Some of them guard collections of magic objects he salvaged, but most were looted during the crusades. I have a map of some locations." 

Eric presented a scroll-like piece of leather. 

"Follow it and recover the items," the demon ordered. "I'll be visiting the Philippians."

 

Dean woke up wrapped in a warm comforter, his own sweat sticking to him. As he opened his eyes, memories of the past few days flooded back to him and a cocky smile played at either side of his lips.

He put his arm out to find Cas, but he only felt more blanket.

"Cas?" he said.

He was alone in bed.

He dressed himself and went down to the war room, where Sam and Cas sat in true nerd-style between books.

"Am I breaking something up?" he asked playfully.

"Finally," Sam growled. "You need to help us find – "

"Woah, woah, too early," Dean deflected. "Way too early."

"It's three in the afternoon."

"Then I guess I should get started on lunch." 

Sam pushed ahead in his book, which was easily the most densely written he'd ever seen. 

"It says here that blood-born magic could be used to seal a lock, but that the lock must already be there," Sam read from his text. "Whatever that means."

"That would explain why the Catacombs are out in the Arctic Ocean. The lock was already there," Cas replied.

"Okay, so, what's blood-born magic?"

"Jimmy Novak is human," Cas explained, "but when I occupy him as a vessel, even without Grace, his blood is no longer human, but angel."

"Which is why people possessed by demons have demonic blood," Sam said, "because the power of the demon changes the nature of the body."

"Sort of," Cas replied. "But the point is, blood-born magic is carried by the blood, even if you can't tap into the power."

"Okay, great, but, how can we unseal the lock?" Sam asked. "We would need a demon, wouldn't we?"

"No," Cas said, standing up. "We would need someone who died while possessed by Valefor himself, or one of his masters."

"What about that witch, Olivia? Can we use her blood?"

"Perhaps, but we burned her bones," Castiel dismissed. "And I purified the demon knife of her blood."

"So we need to track down Paimon again to get his blood?"

"That might not work," Cas said. "We need someone that the earliest demons would answer to."

"Which is?"

"Lucifer."

"Lucifer?"

"That's correct."

"Where would we even get Lucifer's blood?" Sam asked.

"You," Dean said happily as he entered the room with burgers, buns, and condiments. "Eat up."

"Me?" Sam asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," Cas said. "The trials purified Sam."

"So we're screwed," Dean said.

He put together a burger. When he saw Sam's face, he motioned to his brother, encouraging him to eat. Sam finally indulged in the late lunch when Dean mimed his best airplane fork. 

"No," Cas said, thinking out loud. He abruptly had an odd little smile on his lips. "We're actually right on par."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked with his mouth full.

"Nick was his human name," Cas said quietly. "After he took your body, Sam, Lucifer hid Nick's."

"So it's still around? Nick's body, I mean," Dean asked.

"Yes, and we have means to track it," Castiel replied. "Where are the horsemen's rings?"


	3. Black Snow Sky

**South China Sea**. Paimon stood on the jagged cliffs surrounding the Hell Gate. It dropped down into the ocean from its mouth, which kept it safe from people. The warding hid it from angels, witches, and diviners. 

He ran his meat suit's hand down the side of the seal; indeed, an angel had locked the door thousands of years before. Yet it was certainly a demon that hid it from the world.

"Why brother?" he asked the door as if it might answer. "Why would you hide a door that an angel locked? And why would an angel lock a door and fail to destroy it?"

He felt the presence of an angel nearby. They weren't usually difficult to sense; powerful beings could rarely be stealthy. He wasn't worried, more curious.

"Who is there?" he asked the sky. 

"Hermes," a voice replied.

Paimon said, "I know an angel when I smell one."

"I do not deny that I am an angel."

"And your name is Hermes?"

"That is what others call me," said Hermes.

"Why are you here?" 

"I watch over this door."

"What door?" Paimon asked. 

"The one you just spoke to."

"There is no door."

"Then why did you just say there was?"

Paimon replied, "I asked about a door, but the door is not located here, Hermes. My brother was to meet me here, so that I may open a door and find my way home."

"But your brother is not here," said Hermes. "No one has been here at the door for hundreds of years, except you and me."

"I told you, there is no door," Paimon repeated.

"Indeed, there is."

"Where?"

"You stand before it."

"There is nothing here."

"Only a demon may see it."

"I am a demon, and I see nothing."

After a few moments of silence, Hermes asked, "You are a demon, but you cannot see the door?"

"I told you, angel, there is no door here."

"But this has been my post for over a thousand years," the angel wailed. "I am certain there is a door here."

Hermes appeared beside Paimon, rolling his hands over the slate he saw. He felt the power there, but his eyes perceived nothing more than solid rock.

With a single precise move, Paimon used the nails of his hands to slash off one of the angel's fingers. Roaring in pain, Hermes became invisible again and moved away.

"Thanks to you now, good Hermes, I have the key!" 

Taking his own blood and mixing it with the angel's, he painted a sigil on the door.

 

"No, it needs to be the world," Cas said. 

Sam stopped mid-way through setting up a map of the USA. He changed gears and pulled up a world map.

"Good, now the rings?" Cas directed to Dean. 

"Got'em," Dean said. He plunked the remaining three rings onto the map. 

"Sam, put your hands on the far sides of the map," the angel instructed.

"What?"

"Your vessel held Lucifer for a short time, even though you've been purified, you can help us tune this location," Cas explained. "Please. It should cause no discomfort."

"And if it does?"

"Then I apologize."

Sam laughed quietly as he placed either hand at the extreme east and west sides of the map. Castiel began chanting something in Enochian.

Sparks flew. It was as if static electricity filled the entire face of the map. In a few moments, all three rings moved around the surface on their own accord. One ring moved to a northern position and stopped; another stopped in the South China Sea. The third landed in Lake Huron. 

"Helpful," Dean said sarcastically.

"You can remove your hands, Sam," Cas said. 

Dean went to reclaim the rings, but Cas stopped him. "Famine's ring is on the Catacombs, you see?"

"That's where the catacombs are?"

"In the Arctic Ocean, and War's ring... I don't know where it is pointing."

"The Ocean," Dean said. 

"The South China Sea," Sam corrected, "outside the Philippians."

"Something is there, but not what we're looking for," explained Cas, "Pestilence's ring will tell us where his body is."

"Lake Huron?" Dean said. "His body is in Lake Huron?"

"No, his body is preserved in a container at the bottom of Lake Huron," Cas corrected. "I'll go to it immediately."

Before he could do anything else, the three rings zoomed together over the South China Sea.

"Seems there's no time like the present," Cas said merrily before he disappeared. 

"Cas!" Dean cried. 

"What just happened?" Sam asked.

"Cas!"

 

The door on the island shook, then fell, crumbling in upon itself. This was an old Hell Gate, and this would be its last hurrah. 

Paimon stood back to admire his work, watching as fire and light exploded from the core of the rock, blasting away the warding and destroying the seal around it.

"See, good Hermes," Paimon taunted, "my brethren were locked away from this earth, but I am here to allow them passage – "

Hermes laughed a heartless, hollow kind of laugh. "Ever since the Gates of Hell were shut, I have hoped for someone to wrench open this gate!" 

Indeed, a Hell Gate opened onto Earth, but no black smoke zoomed out of it. The white light that floundered out consisted entirely of human souls. Demons couldn't pass through the Hell Gate.

"No!" Paimon bellowed, shaking the stone all the way down to the ocean's floor. Waves flourished, and a storm began to build up. He threw fireballs at Hermes, who flew overhead, overjoyed. 

The sound of wings filled the sky, and sure enough, an entire angel brigade appeared, shepherding souls out of hell. Paimon turned his assault of fire and lightning towards them. 

One angel exploded with lightning, the other continued his work in spite of the fire consuming him. He took a third and tore her in half. 

"You can't do this!" Paimon screeched. "Angels cannot free souls unless they are innocent!"

"And you cannot walk the earth," Naomi said, descending with two more angels flanking either side. "Yet here you are."

"You pervert the rules – "

"The rules? The rules have changed," Naomi told him. 

Paimon had no reason to fear such an angel. She had no power over him. He charged at them as the Hell Gate collapsed, closing its doors forever. Suddenly he felt hot air crushing his newly-brewed storm. It moved contrary to the laws of nature. Not only did the angels break the heavenly movement of souls, now they broke even the laws of nature!

Before he reached Naomi, a flash of blinding-white light consumed the sky, and he fell down into the ocean. The rubble of the previous Hell Gate was little more than a small island poking its head out of the sea. His storm was gone, as were the angels, and all the souls that had made a push out the door before it closed.

Paimon roared a roar that echoed across the waters.

 

Castiel trudged along the bottom of Lake Huron, easily spotting the container. It was warded against angels, but the chains that held it in place were not. Demons weren't known for their attention to detail. 

He worked quickly because water burned his lungs. Once he held all the chains, he balled them up, and teleported back to the Men of Letters bunker, being sure to land in the largest room.

 

Thud!

Dean and Sam both looked towards the middle room, which led down into the war room. 

"Little help here," Cas grunted. 

They both jolted into the next room. 

"Woah," Sam said, looking at the casket. 

"When we are done," Cas suggested, "we should find a place for his body, just in case."

"What does that mean, 'just in case?'" Dean asked.

"Well, the other demons will want Lucifer's blood for rituals. We don't want them to find it."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "What if we extracted it all?"

"Extracted?" Dean repeated. "Why?"

"We could store it, like the other pantry items."

"Right, of course, next to the angel feathers and the dragon tears, Lucifer's blood."

Cas said thoughtfully, "I wouldn't put it there myself, but if it helps your organization – "

"We are not storing Satan's blood!" Dean yelled.

"Why not?"

"Because, it's – gross."

"We'll lock it up for safekeeping," Sam said, "and burn Nick's bones. Give him a hunter's funeral."

"Awesome. You gonna crack this thing open or what?" Dean asked Cas.

"I can't, it's warded against angels."

Dean replied, "Of course it is."


	4. Separating Sanity

Naomi flipped through paper reports at her desk, but she wasn't really reading them.

It had been easy, justifying herself to Archangel Batkol, about why she failed to kill Castiel. He had just saved her life and nearly died in the effort. Archangel Emunah had been less inclined to understanding, but even he recognized the severity of the situation: reporting Paimon's return was paramount. 

Naomi felt betrayed by her own power. She had spent so much time in this office, in the cubbies with the soldiers, wiping their minds clean so they would obey, that she had failed herself as a soldier. Even now, she's pushing paper on Paimon instead of readying herself for battle. 

She had never hated her place before. She was a soldier, a warrior, though she rarely left Heaven herself. Her work was important; not just for those in power, but for the angels on the ground, too. She lifted burdens from them; she kept them not just obedient but happy. Too much knowledge will make anyone miserable, and once someone has lived more than a thousand years, hope and faith became laborious and scanty for anyone. 

At least that's how she saw it before Castiel. No amount of manufacturing or flushing or rewiring made him obey. No amount of erasing extinguished his internal fire. She wanted to reset him completely, but the sole purpose of retrieving him from Purgatory was to use him to manage Sam and Dean Winchester. If he was reset, he'd forget them, and then what use would he be?

Naomi hated that he made her question her work. Of all the angels she worked on, he was the only one to recover memories. Even the others who managed to break her binding connection never managed that.

What was so special about Castiel? He had been a member of the Garrison, away from Heaven and her control by assignment. He took Anna's place as Captain when she fell to earth, which meant he should've been the most obedient. Hester said that when Castiel put a hand on Dean Winchester in hell he was lost, but the truth was, Castiel had been lost from the beginning. 

Even at his highest post as Captain, he questioned orders. He felt for his charges. He felt for his brothers and sisters. Those feelings alone, in their strength and in their meaning, set him apart from the other angels. That was all Naomi could grasp at this point; it was maddening. 

She considered her options. Any attempt on Castiel's life now would be futile, a waste of resources. He was too good a soldier, too strong a fighter, for just anyone to take out. His love for another kept him alive, which meant he would kill in self-defense. So what could she do? Putting more angels on the line now, when they had so few, wasn't wise. 

Paimon killed six of her soldiers in the past three weeks alone; meanwhile, Castiel had survived the encounter with a wound that the Winchesters healed. He survived combat with Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael. He had even survived his encounter with the most powerful Leviathan. 

No matter how much Naomi wanted to kill him, he had proven himself useful in bleak scenarios. With his sidekicks, he just might be able to take out Paimon's forces. But Castiel was a traitor, how could she expect anyone to offer amnesty for such an offense?

Hannah knocked on the door.

"Come in," Naomi said.

"Two hundred thousand escaped from hell," Hannah reported, "and have been delivered unto heaven."

"Good," Naomi remarked. "Any news on Paimon?"

"Hermes reported that he is in Arizona about thirty minutes ago, but the demon is using angel warding."

"Of course," Naomi replied. 

"Avaida reported her charge has maintained contact with Sam Winchester, but they have not met in person again."

"Avaida's charge," Naomi repeated. "This is the FBI Agent?" 

"Yes."

"Tell Avaida I have orders for her, as soon as she's ready."

"Yes, ma'am," Hannah said politely as she left. 

Naomi smiled. She wouldn't need to offer amnesty to Castiel or deal with the Winchesters. All she had to do was bait them with a reliable source.

 

Caleb greeted Paimon on his return, "Master!"

"Shut up, you fool!" Paimon barked. "We need more demons."

"That will require more reapers," Caleb said.

"Then get them or die," Paimon ordered. "You have two weeks!"

 

Sam set up IV bores, not sure how else to exsanguinate a body. 

"I guess I could start compressions," he said lamely to Dean.

Cas suggested, "Let me warm the blood, that will aid the flow."

The angel touched Nick's corpse, and it turned pink and peach again from warmth. Sam started compressions, and the blood flowed into the receptacles. 

"Guys, this is disgusting," Dean commented. 

"This is disgusting?" Sam asked incredulously. 

"Uh, yeah," Dean said. He set up a heavy black bag next to the body.

"Where did you get that?" Cas asked.

"Borrowed it from the morgue."

"By borrow you mean – "

"Stole, okay. Com'on the corner bitch was a djinn who doped Charlie, she deserved to be knocked down a few pegs."

"You've had that for six months?" Sam asked. "Really?"

Dean shrugged. "You're pushing on a dead guy, don't judge me."

It only took a half hour to complete the process, although Dean felt like it took far too long to get a splash of blood for a lock. 

"So you're serious? We're just gonna store Satan's blood?" Dean asked as Sam labeled the bottles. 

"Don't worry, we'll lock it in a vault," Sam dismissed. "It's not like you have to look at it all the time."

"Hold this," Cas said, handing Dean a stopped vial.

"Really?" he asked.

"It's for the mission," Cas replied.

They packed up the blood and bagged Nick's body. 

"There's a place in South Dakota we can start his pyre," Dean suggested.

Cas didn't want to wait any longer, but the Winchester's respect for human remains was important. Castiel transported them into the badlands, hoping not to attract too much attention

"You should wait back at the bunker," Dean insisted.

"The angels have bigger fish to fry," Cas commented. "Something happened earlier today. I should be safe."

"Should be?"

"Dean, please."

"Fine, but if I hear wings – "

"Dean!"

 

The fire started, and they waited.

"Nick was a person," Sam said. "Before, everything. He was just a guy."

"So were you," Dean said. "What's your point?"

"He deserves a proper funeral," Sam replied. 

"He's getting one now," Dean said.

"Because we needed his blood. If we never had, he might've just stayed at the bottom of Lake Huron."

Fire and ash flashed around them all. 

"Who died?" Kuravi asked by way of greeting. 

"A man named Nick," Cas replied mildly. "He was Lucifer's vessel for a time."

"I have no idea what that means," she said.

"We think we can open the catacombs," Sam told Kuravi.

"You can? Let's go."

"We are giving Nick here a few moments of silence," Dean told Kuravi. "If you don't mind."

"I don't."

They waited.

"Why are you so keen on saving these people, anyway?" Dean asked. 

"You mean the others imprisoned with me?"

"Yes," Dean said. "You're free, so why do you even care?"

Kuravi seemed offended by the question. "Your lives are short, so it's hard for you to understand."

"Understand what?"

"What it is like to be imprisoned for a thousand years, a million years. I wasn't made to be stagnant. Were it not for those others in the cells with me, I'd be insane."

"They kept you sane? With what? Campfire songs?" Dean joked.

"I speak English," Kuravi said calmly. "Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"Uh, no," Dean said. "Should it?"

"I am as old as the Leviathan, and unlike them, I was locked away from humans and monsters. But those that were there with me, they could hear things. They learned new languages and taught me. They heard new stories, new histories, and told me about them. Even the demons that kept us, they showed us the face of the world. It is difficult to feel so in debt to someone and not help them."

Dean considered this for a moment and replied, "I can buy that, I guess."

"You are young," Kuravi remarked. "But you have a nugget of understanding in you, I can see it."

Dean wasn't sure if this was a compliment or a joke at his expense, but before he could respond, Castiel spoke up.

"We should go. Our presence has drawn attention."

Kuravi offered her hand to Sam. 

"I'll, uh, go with Cas – "

But Cas and Dean had already teleported.

"Sorry, he took Angel Snuggles with him," Kuravi teased. "Come on, I travel better than any angel."

She had a point. Kuravi swirled with ash and fire, but as she swept Sam away, he felt oddly safe, as if he was returned to the womb for a moment. 

Then he almost passed out from the shock of freezing air in his lungs. "What the hell!" he yelled.

"Sorry, forgot," Kuravi said. 

Dean encircled Cas, heaving against the cold biting at his skin. 

"Underground?" she said to Castiel. "It's warmer there."

He nodded, and they both moved again.


	5. Superstitious Century

Naomi stood in front of the Archangels, the swagger back in her step. 

"I trust you have good news," Emunah said.

"Paimon attempted to open a Hell Gate, and in so doing, unleashed several thousand souls trapped in Hell."

"So demons cannot pass onto the plane of the Earth even through a Hell Gate," Batkol observed. "As it should be."

"I have an angel watching over a woman name Dakota Gage, she's an FBI Agent with a foot in the supernatural realm. She has recently connected with Sam Winchester."

"What is your intent?" Batkol asked.

"Dean Winchester is too close to Castiel," Naomi began. "He will defend him with his life, if he must, and he will walk away from a charge from heaven. He doesn't trust us."

"You think you can reach Sam Winchester?" Emunah asked.

"I believe Dakota Gage will," Naomi explained. "She already has his ear on cases and has responded positively to Avaida. With her providing information to the Winchesters, we will be able to direct them to the destruction of Paimon without any need to rescind the order on Castiel's life."

"I see," Batkol said. "You have no desire to spare his life?"

"He did save yours just weeks ago," Emunah followed up.

"If only he had saved the thousands of other angels he smote after Raphael," Naomi replied dryly. "Then maybe I would want to spare him."

Emunah and Batkol seemed satisfied with this. "Very well," Emunah said, "What do you need?"

Naomi smiled. She loved this part.

 

The freezing cold switched to a stuffy, stale lukewarm in the catacombs. Kuravi looked apologetic, and Cas fused over Dean. 

"I forgot your body heat needed more insulation," the angel explained apologetically.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean said, pushing Cas's hands away. "Let's open this door and blow this popsicle stand."

"Popsicle stand?" Kuravi inquired.

"Never mind," Sam said. "Where's the door?"

Kuravi pointed at an embedded stone door in the ground.

"All these pathways, and this is the door?" Dean asked. "You sure?"

"This is the door I came through. My chamber was closest to the exit."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Being a pacifist has its benefits," she said. "How do you intend to open it?"

"Blood of Lucifer," Castiel replied. 

"That's brilliant," she said. "How did you – "

Dean already applied the blood from the vial, forming a rough sigil that he likened to a Yin-Yang.

He stepped back as the stone glowed white, then black, then purple.

"Is that, uh, suppose to happen?" Dean asked. 

Sam shrugged, "Maybe?"

"Awesome."

The catacombs shivered. The entire enclosure around them faded away, and they were no longer in a dark, cavernous underbelly. No, they were above ground in what seemed to be a desert. The sun was down, but the air was dry and sand was everywhere.

"What the – " Dean began, but Castiel pulled him down to safety as plumes of white-purple smoke burst up. 

The sound of the ground breaking, the smell of ash, Sam couldn't separate it anymore. When it all stopped, he collapsed onto Kuravi to catch his breath.

"It worked," Kuravi said. She pointed.

Dean followed her finger. She and Cas must've moved them a few miles away from the desert. They were on some rocks looking down on a new opening in the earth.

Two balls of light jolted into the sky. Suddenly Cas's hands were over their faces. 

"Cas, what – ?" Dean protested.

"Keep your eyes closed," Cas cautioned. "Ruach is rising."

Dean heard the high whine of an angelic voice. The entire world trembled at her sound.

"Castiel!" Cas shouted. 

Whatever it was stopped and passed beyond the earth. 

"Uh, Kuravi," Cas said. "What is that?"

Sam and Dean both risked a peek. They had known three angels and a deity were trapped, but the explosion of lights coming from the bowels of the earth continued.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe there were others trapped down there?"

"Other angels?" Sam asked.

Fire and lightning spiraled out of the earth, along with a resounding roar. Sam could make out what looked much like the Greek Chimera bounding upward, then disappearing. 

"I don't think so."

"You don't think so?" Dean repeated. "First the eight asshats, now this? How do we know we didn't just open hell up again?"

"Because Hell isn't down there," Kuravi said. "Oh, my, that's – that's Aido!"

She looked up at what appeared to be a rainbow ascending into the sky. "Aido!" she yelled. Ash and fire blew out, and Kuravi was gone. 

"Seriously?" Dean asked. "What's an Aido?"

"Aido Hwedo, the Rainbow Serpent," Sam said. 

"Good or bad, Sammy?"

"Medium," Sam said with trepidation.

Cas stared at the dancing colors until they blew out, leaving a deep gaping hole in the desert. 

"Kelpies," he said, "and ghouls, and other monsters, I definitely saw, but most I could not identify."

"We don't have enough to worry about with Paimon and his skeevy witches?" Dean asked. "What did we just do?"

They hadn't notice that a storm came closer. A monsoon rolled out from nowhere, and the angel knew that Paimon was nearby. The weather heralded his arrival. With a swift movement, Castiel grabbed the Winchesters by the scruff of their necks and teleported away.

 

"We have a dozen reapers, my lord," said Blaze, "now all we need are instructions."

Paimon was satisfied with the witch's responsiveness. They valued their lives, which he appreciated. 

"The important thing is to gather my forces without attracting attention," he said. "Go about things quietly, bringing demons back through the interim space."

"Do we have a goal?"

"We need to tip the balance of power," he explained. "The universe was designed to lock us out of one plane or another, given the right forces. We just need to spin one of those forces out of control, and to do that we need more demons. Preferably in human bodies."

"What about Caleb?"

"He is on a special mission," Paimon dismissed. "Concern yourselves with tipping the balance of power."

"How many demons?" asked Eric.

"A hundred? Two hundred? A thousand?" Paimon said. "I don't know, but it's important they are brought to me and kept quiet. No undue attention." 

"Yes, master," Eric chimed. 

Paimon could feel the fire again. A smile reached his face. "I think we've got plenty of distractions out there right now," he commented, remembering the eruptions of light from the desert of the earth.

 

Cas was already in bed when Dean stomped into the room. He seemed oddly serene for an angel that just unleashed untold misfortune upon the world.

"You look too happy," Dean said.

"You're here," Cas replied. "That makes me happy."

"Ah, shut up."

"I find your inability to respond with verbal confirmations of your feelings very endearing."

"Shut up twice."

Cas smiled as Dean climbed into bed on top of him.

"The world has changed," Cas said quietly. 

"We talked about this, Cas, pillow talk."

"Some elements in nature were stirred by supernatural forces to dangerous levels, but the world is still spinning. That alone is a reason to be happy."

"The world didn't end, so we should be happy?"

"Or maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to cover a good reason," Cas said, his blue eyes piercing through Dean's. 

Dean's lips twitched. "That's pillow talk, baby."

"Don't bring her into this," Cas muttered, as if jealous of the Impala.

"Sorry, Cas," Dean whispered, and this time he said the angel's nickname with a very particular tilt to his voice, unmistakable to Castiel's ears. 

The angel's hand followed up Dean's arm to his neck, cupping his cheek. He saw the desire reflected back at him through Dean's perfect green eyes, and he felt Dean's body draw closer. Every inch of him needed rest, and Cas knew it. Not because he was an angel who could read Dean's mind, but because he knew Dean. 

Dean kissed him, curling his arms around the angel's back and pulling their bodies together. Then he nuzzled along the angel's neck and breathed in deeply.

"Sleep well," Cas whispered. He took two fingers and gently touch Dean's forehead, putting him to sleep. "Rest well," he whispered.

 

 **Washington, D.C.** FBI Special Agent Dakota Gage collapsed into bed. Her head felt like it was going to burst open, and all day a migraine threatened to bubble up on her. Now it was finally here, and all she can do is hope to sleep it off.

Dodge had been seeing vivid images all day, too. Bright lights coursing from what she could only understand to be rocks. She assumed this was due to the headache; light sensitivity was a common precursor. 

She drifted off to sleep and felt warmth envelop her. Then a series of striking flashes strobed in her mind: a young man in a hospital gown on a steep cliff over the ocean; white light pulsing out of the cliff; the cliff collapsing; people hovering or flying overhead; and the sound of children, or maybe just people, singing. 

Dodge woke up. The headache was there, but not as bad, so she went back to sleep. The images repeated themselves, and each time she'd wake up in shock. What else could she do but go back to sleep? Soon she heard things, too. "Paimon" and "Hermes" were prominent, and then she heard – 

"Sam and Dean Winchester."

She struggled to wake herself up, literally falling out of bed in the process. 

Dodge grabbed her phone, clumsily pushing the buttons. "Sam – Sam, are you there?"


End file.
